Second Chances
by Cat-Hattin
Summary: Dr Who Blackpool Torchwood crossover. So the Doctor and Martha weren't meat to be. What would happen if Martha encountered Peter Carlisle? Season 4 hasn't happened so for this fic, Martha didn't rejoin the Dr.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Second Chances

Author: Cat

Rating: PG.

Paring: Martha/Peter Carlisle, slight Dr/Martha

Spoilers: No big ones, but I guess the whole of series 3.

Summary: Dr Who/Blackpool/Torchwood crossover. So the Doctor and Martha weren't meat to be, what would happen if Martha encountered Peter Carlisle? Season 4 hasn't happened so for this fic, Martha didn't rejoin the Dr.

Chapter One

"Jack, I can't do this! I'm a terrible liar." She could almost hear him laughing at her as he replied.

"Of course you can. Now Tosh will call you when she's set your fake ID up for you. Do you have the psychic paper?"

"Yes."

"Good. You know I'd be there with you if I could. Now take a deep breath and get to it."

Martha smiled. "Yes sir."

"That's my girl." He hung up and Martha closed the phone.

"Miss Jones?"

Martha turned to the voice. "Doctor Jones," she corrected.

"Of course, I do apologise. I'm Chief Inspector Carlisle. You performed CPR on the victim, right?"

"That's right, what can I do for you?"

He was looking quizzically at her. "You were staring at me while I was over the other side of the lobby and you're looking a little odd right now. Is something wrong?"

"No. You just remind me of an old friend."

He smiled. "Old boyfriend?"

"No. Just a friend. But you don't sound like him, if that helps."

"Good, wouldn't want to think I have a doppelganger out there."

Martha smiled. Up close the resemblance was less remarkable. This man was scruffier than the Doctor had been, his suit was cheaper and he was unshaven. Still, she couldn't help thinking that the stubble would have looked good on the doctor. The Scottish brogue was interesting too. Not better than the doctors voice, but maybe warmer.

"I was wondering if you'd talk me through what happened?"

"I already gave my statement to one of your officers."

"I know," he pulled on his ear lobe. Martha couldn't help but think of the TV detective, Columbo, his apparent ineptitude hiding a sharp intellect. She had a suspicion this man used a similar trick to put people at ease "I just like to hear thing first hand. Helps me remember things."

"And check for inconsistencies."

He looked at her a moment, seeming to size her up. "That too." He agreed. "Will there be any inconsistencies in your story?"

"No." Martha's phone rang . "Excuse me," she told him, turning away. Tosh spoke to her and Martha listened. "Got it. Thanks, Tosh." She hung up and turned back to Carlisle. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?"

He gestured towards the front door, watching her closely as he followed her outside.

The wind was light but night had brought a chill to the air. Martha began walking in the hotel grounds, trying to keep warm.

"Bit soon to be confessing, isn't it?" he asked, falling into step beside her.

Martha smiled, realising he was teasing. Or half teasing, at least. "Maybe you're just that good."

"Maybe I am." He didn't speak again. A well known interrogation tactic Jack had taught her. Martha cracked first.

"I didn't just happen across this scene." She told him.

Carlisle just nodded.

"I'm an Intelligence Officer for MI5, I'm following a... man. I think these two murders are his work." She handed him the psychic paper with the details Tosh had managed to plant in the MI5 computers.

He took the paper and looked at it. "So this is the point where you either take over my investigation, or shut us down, right?"

"No."

He looked mildly surprised. "Then what? You let us run around until we get close to the truth, then swoop in and shut us down?"

"Believe me, if you get close to the truth, you won't believe it anyway."

They walked in silence for a few moments.

"Nah, I'm sorry, but I don't buy it."

"What?"

"Everythin'. You are about as far from Security Service as it's possible to be."

Martha looked at him shocked.

"That's a compliment, by the way," he continued. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm sure if I called up you're credentials would be valid. But that doesn't make it true."

Martha kicked herself, she had never been a good liar. She crossed her arms and said, defensively, "All you need to know is that I work for an organisation who's resources are unlimited and who's influence extends farther than you can imagine."

"Well, in that case, the investigation's all yours then."

"Don't be sarcastic."

"Tell me," he rubbed his chin. "How are you hoping this will end?"

"I'd like to work along side you."

"Why?"

"Because it's easier. I could do it alone, I'd still learn everything in every report, probably before you did, but I'd rather not go over your head."

He nodded slowly. "Righ-t. And the truth?"

Maybe it was because of his resemblance to the Doctor, she didn't know, but Martha considered her options and decided to trust him. "I've never something like this alone before." She confessed.

They had walked around to the back of the hotel by now. Carlisle sat on one of the benches beside the pond and Martha sat down beside him.

"So, basically, you want to spy on my investigation, use police resources, pick my brain and I'm not allowed to know what's going on, or any pertinent information what so ever."

Martha smiled. "When you put it like that..."

"So tell me."

Martha wanted to, she did desperately. But she was too much of a professional. "Honestly, you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

"I can't."

They sat in silence, both looking at the moonlight reflected on the water.

Finally Carlisle sighed. "Call me crazy, but okay, I'm in."

Martha tried to hide her grin. "Good."

"You'll need new forged ID. Consulting psychologist would be a believable cover." He said, nonchalantly.

Martha took her phone out and dialled Torchwood's base. She knew Tosh would answer because everyone else was out chasing aliens, just like she was.

"It's me again. I need you to set me up as some sort of consultant to the police."

Carlisle watched her closely as she talked.

"Don't worry, I'll clear it with Jack." She closed the phone. "She'll let me know when it's done." She told him. Perhaps she sensed his scrutiny, which was why she didn't look at him.

Carlisle liked a good mystery, and Doctor Martha Jones was certainly that. He was almost certain she had nothing to do with the murders, but there was much more to her than met the eye. And he was going to find out what, even if it killed him.

He pulled out a roll of mints and offered the pack to her. Martha thanked him and took one.

"So." He began, popping a mint in his mouth before wrapping the packet up and stowing it away in a pocket. "The man you're after is looking for something, isn't he?"

"Yeah." She looked enquiringly at him. "How did you-"

"The room where the other victim was found was ransacked." He answered her. "And no, he didn't get it."

"Why do you say that?"

"The second victim was killed while the perpetrator was on his way out, apparently enraged."

"And if he'd got what he'd come for he wouldn't be angry."

"Exactly."

"The first victim, was he tortured?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"Then we have some time. He'll stay around until he finds whatever he's after, or another clue."

"What is he after?"

"Even I don't know."

He stared at her.

"Honestly."

He believed her.

They began walking back to the hotel.

"Have you got a place to stay?" he asked.

"I might as well book in here."

He raised his eyebrows. "This is a five star hotel."

Martha smiled. "Like I said, we're well financed."

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "I can see that."

Out front of the hotel Martha walked up to a large black SUV and pulled a holdall and large black case from the back.

"You don't travel light, then." He observed.

Martha swung the holdall over her shoulder. "This is my luggage." She pulled out the handle on the suitcase to wheel it in. "This is my equipment."

Looking bemused he offered "Can I take that for you?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"If I come back in with you I can get you a look around the first crime scene."

Martha considered a moment then handed him her holdall. "Sure."

III

Martha pulled what looked like a large mobile phone from her case and held it up in front if her as she turned slowly in the room. This situation was so huge that the usual rule of not removing alien objects from the headquarters had been over ridden. Everyone had taken as much as they thought would be useful to them before heading off on their assignments.

"Scanner." She explained.

"Course." He replied, like it explained everything. He stayed by the door watching her. She didn't even attempt to touch or move anything in the room, but she did take the device closer to some objects. Sometimes it made a high pitched whine, sometimes it gave of low beeps.

Finally satisfied, she turned the device off and headed out of the room.

"What happens to that now?" he asked.

"I send the data back to HQ."

He nodded, unsure how to keep her talking.

Martha also seemed reluctant to leave but finally said. "Right then, I'd better check in. Night." She headed for the reception desk.

"So, I'll see you at the station tomorrow?"

She turned back. "Why?"

"You wanted to work with me, that's where I work from."

"Okay, I'll meet you there."

She turned to the reception again and he was dismissed.

III

As soon as Martha was settled in her suite, she e-mailed the scan results off to HQ with a PS to find out anything possible on Peter Carlisle.

It only took 30 minutes for the results of the scan to come back. Martha wasn't surprised; the system was automated and analyzed by computer. Most of Torchwood was hi tech these days. Things had moved forward a lot and Tosh's main job was simply to look after the system.

Of course things were rarely that simple and Martha was glad there was someone as capable as Tosh running things back there.

She glanced over the scan results, unsurprised by the findings. Alien DNA, single source, from the Vartoan race. No match to any Vartoan's in their database.

Martha thought this was hardly unexpected since she didn't even know what a Vartoan was. Thankfully a brief description was included.

"Vartoan – A warrior race from the blue planet of the Karanly system. Their technology is advanced and mainly stolen from the races they have conquered. They are strong though not particularly fast. Bipedal, over 7 feet tall and slightly hunched in appearance, they are known to use holo technology to change physical appearance at will. In recent years they have developed a reputation as bounty hunters or guns for hire."

"Wonderful," said Martha. Here she was chasing a seven foot alien who could change its appearance at will and snap her like a twig.

Her computer beeped and she saw the file on Carlisle had arrived. She opened the attachments.

III

Carlisle was trying something similar. First he'd tried a criminal record search. He remembered her date of birth from the ID she showed him and assumed it to be true. The best lies were based on truth, after all. He reasoned the search was justified as she was a possible suspect in the case. At least that's what he would tell anyone who questioned this action. But nothing, she was clean.

A Google search had revealed nothing, not a birth statement, not a marriage notice, not even a local paper article of her winning a swimming prize at school.

That alone was weird, no one in this day and age could go through life without a mention somewhere on the internet.

Now he was getting down to good old fashioned detective work.

"Hi, yes, My name is PD Dougan." Best not to use his real name, in case she found out about the call. "I'm trying to locate a Doctor Martha Jones. I have reason to believe she might have worked for you."

Her accent was southern, probably London. She might not be a medical doctor, he reasoned but she had performed CPR so he was starting with London Hospitals. This call was his sixth call.

"I'm afraid I can't release information on the telephone."

"No, I understand that. It's just a friend of hers, Jack, has been in an accident. Jacks girlfriend asked us to track Ms Jones down."

"I still can't check the computers for you, sir. Data Protection. I'm sorry."

"No, no I understand that, but would it be breaking the rules if you asked around? The girlfriend is in a bit of a state, she couldn't give us much to go on."

The operator hesitated a few moments. "I remember her, she used to work in Accident and Emergency. I'll put you on hold and see if there's anyone on shift who remembers her."

A couple of minutes later she came back and told him she was connecting him with a Dr Milligan.

"Tom Milligan."

Carlisle repeated his rehearsed speech about needing to find Martha.

"Yeah, she worked here about three years ago but got offered a job in Cardiff. She relocated there."

"Do you have a contact number for her?"

"I did. It's a mobile though, don't know if it still works anymore."

Tom read off the number and Carlisle copied it down.

"Thank you. Do you mind me asking, were you two more than just colleagues?"

"We were for a while, but her heart wasn't in it. I think she'd just got out of something serious, wasn't ready for a new relationship yet."

Carlisle thanked him and hung up. He considered calling the number Tom had given him but decided against it, he didn't want to reveal his hand too soon.

III

Martha printed out the information on Peter Carlisle and sat down to read it. He had an exemplary record with the police force. The only cloud seemed to have over an incident in Blackpool a few years ago but the official record had few details. He'd been disciplined over a breech of conduct, but nothing more than a slapped wrist. He was a dedicated officer and had earned his promotion to Chief Inspector a year ago. Still very young for such a high rank. Martha had the feeling he was something of a workaholic.

Martha turned to the personal data the search had found and soon had a good idea what the Blackpool incident had been. Peter Carlisle had married the chief suspects wife.

On the next page, however, she learned that the marriage had only lasted four months. His wife had been killed in a car crash with a drunk driver.

There was a copy of a newspaper article with a picture of her car. Martha sighed. Judging by the wreck, his wife hadn't stood a chance.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Martha arrived at the station the next morning to find Carlisle sitting at his desk eating donuts. He offered her one as she sat in the chair beside his desk.

"No thanks. Bit of a cliché isn't it?"

"All clichés have a basis in fact." He licked his fingers and closed the bag. "So have you read this mornings preliminary forensics report yet?"

"No. I thought that would be rude." Besides which she could guess what they said.

He handed her a copy. "No fingerprints, other than the deceased and people we've accounted for, were found at the scene."

Martha nodded.

"Some DNA samples collected, preliminary findings are that they're animal, not human. Same with the hairs found."

Again Martha nodded. Alien samples were often classified as animal.

He leaned forward. "Here's the rub though." Martha looked at him. "The cells and hairs don't resemble any known animal."

She felt she needed to say something. "Weird. How can they tell?"

He was giving her that calculating look again. "The gross cell structure differs from animals. In fact the samples looks more plant like than anything, though they aren't, of course."

Martha didn't answer.

"I also have the coroners preliminary findings here." He put his glasses on and read from the report. "'No external injuries found… initial blood tests suggest heart failure'. Same for both victims" He took the glasses off. "What do you make of that?"

Martha shrugged. "I dunno."

"Witnesses said they were shot. As a Doctor, you don't find it strange they have no wounds and both died from heart failure?"

Martha hoped he wasn't going to press her for information, instead, after a pause he stood up and put his coat on.

"Where are you going?"

He opened the bag of donuts and offered her one. She shook her head. "We are going to a barn on the outskirts of town. Farmers wife reported unusual noises coming from it and her husband hasn't been seen since going to check them out."

"So what have we been waiting here for?"

"A patrol car was closer, they're checking it out. They'll be patched through to us when they report in." He had also wanted to see her reaction to the forensics, something he couldn't do while driving. She hadn't been surprised, and that meant she knew a lot more than she was telling him.

III

"He's gone now, Sir. No sign." PC Harper told Carlisle.

"And the farmer?"

"The ambulance left ten minutes ago. He's critical, but stable."

Martha pulled her scanner out. It was all very well the police searching for signs of the intruder, but the alien could change his appearance. He could even be the police officer.

"Any sign?" Carlisle asked.

Martha waited until she'd turned in a full circle before shaking her head. "It's not within a hundred yards, anyway."

"Where's this bed?" Carlisle asked the PC.

"Over here." Harper said, gesturing for them to follow. "We assumed it was a bed or nest. The farmers wife says it isn't something they did, but I suppose it could have been kids."

Martha followed behind them to the corner of the barn. The straw had been built up around the edges and flattened in the middle, making a kind of straw bowl, about two feet deep.

Carlisle bent down and looked closely at the bed. "And no one saw him?"

"Just the husband, and he's in no condition to talk right now."

"So we've no proof it was even the same man."

"Shall I call forensics?" Harper asked.

Carlisle looked pointedly at Martha "Is there any point, Doctor Jones?"

Martha shook her head. "I- He wont have left anything behind that would be of use to you."

"Righ-t. Hold off on the forensics for now. But tape the doors up, if we do need them I don't want anything contaminated."

He and Martha headed back to the car they came in.

"What do you make of that?" Carlisle asked.

"He was disturbed while sleeping. He was unprepared, which explains why he didn't use a weapon this time."

"Lucky for our farmer, eh?"

"Very."

Carlisle drove back down the lane that lead to the farm.

"Where are we going?"

"The hospital. I want to check how the victim is doing and speak to the wife."

III

The victims wife, Jenny Banks, sat in the waiting room, twisting a tissue in her hands. "It was dark, the sun had barely risen."

"I understand. But anything you might have seen, no matter how strange or odd, will help us."

She continued to twist the tissue, not looking at either of them. Finally she began in a small voice.

"It looked like a monkey. A big monkey, an ape maybe. But it wasn't. It was too tall, even loping along like it was. And that cry." She shuddered at the memory of the noise. "It was inhuman."

"And where did it go?"

"Over the hedge into the horses paddock. I lost sight of it, but I heard the horses running from it, panicked. I couldn't see which direction it went after that."

Carlisle patted her hand. "Thank you."

A few yards down the corridor Carlisle pulled his radio out and called for units to search the land to the west of the farm, urging them to use caution.

"Do you think they'll find it?" Martha asked, worried for them.

"I doubt it." He didn't say anything else. Martha daren't speak, he looked angry.

Once in the car, he sped away from the hospital. He drove too fast, as thought channelling his aggression into the car.

Finally he stopped the car abruptly and turned to her.

"Right," he growled. "Time for the truth."

She was almost afraid of him. "I can't tell you anything."

He leaned over, his face inches from hers. "Yes you can." He said menacingly. "You won't, but you can."

His proximity was unnerving her. She was suddenly struck by how very dark his eyes were. "You don't understand."

"No. Course not, not some PC plod. How could my miniature brain even comprehend the existence of extraterrestrial life forms, eh?" Carlisle searcher her eyes, trying to ignore her scent. Vanilla and musk and-. But he wasn't here for that. He forced himself back to observing her impassively. She was frightened, her eyes wide and beseeching. He swallowed.

"Wot!?"

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"How did you-?"

"It's not hard."

Martha didn't answer.

"This isn't a game! People have died!"

"You think I don't know that! It's my fault they're dead!" she wanted nothing more than for him to put is arms around her and tell her it would be OK. But there was no danger of that happening.

"Then tell me what we're facing. Are my men in danger looking for this thing?"

Martha took a deep breath and turned away from him, trying to calm herself. She could always give him the amnesia drug later. Still, Jack wasn't going to be happy. "Fine. Yes, it's an alien. Yes, your men probably are in danger, but no, I didn't think you were too stupid to understand."

"It's looking for something, what's it after?"

Martha shrugged. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? You're looking for this thing, you must know why it's here."

"Sorry, I just know that it's here. And there are others, lots of others. They're on a sort of treasure hunt."

"What treasure?" he leaned back in his seat, pleased he didn't have to intimidate her any longer, but sorry to be moving away, all the same.

"No idea. It's a bit like the Holy Grail is to us. Could be a lot of things, but no one can say for sure, people have been looking for centuries and no one knows where it is."

"Then I think you'd better start at the beginning."

Martha wondered where exactly the beginning was, and decided chronological was probably best.

"About four thousand years ago a famous artist called Toag died. He was the Michelangelo of his galaxy. He knew he was dying, and he knew his family couldn't wait to get their hands on his money and sell off his work. Just before he died, he spent weeks in his studio, then a week after he emerged, he died."

"What has that got to do with what's happening now?"

"I'm getting there. Anyway, when they read his will, it turned out he'd given everything away or sold it for a pittance to friends, employees and charities. There was nothing left to his family except a letter. The letter said that the only piece of work he still owned was the last thing he'd been working on, his most beautiful work to date. He'd hidden it and the first person to find it was, in is eyes, it's owner and free to do what they liked with it."

"And people have been searching ever since?"

Martha nodded. "It's been given mystical properties over the years. Some say it will grant it's owner eternal beauty, others that it had the power to stop death. But even without all the rumours, it would still be priceless."

"Why did he hide it here?"

"No clue."

"What does it look like?"

"We don't even know it exists. It has been said this could have been a last sick joke he played on his materialistic family. But that's beside the point. People have been examining his work, his letters, his diaries, his sketches, everything, for centuries, trying to find a clue as to where it's hidden. The latest scholar names Sol 3 as its likely hiding place. Earth." Martha looked out at the bleak grey sky. It felt like an omen. "And for the last three weeks they've been pouring into Earth and we've been running around like blue arsed flies trying to stop the more dangerous aliens before they can hurt anyone."

"Well, you're not doing a great job, if you don't mind me saying."

Martha gave a hollow laugh. "Well, we're only human."

"So this organisation you work for?"

"Torchwood. We track alien activity, try and catch the nasty ones, stop the world ending now and again. You know, basic stuff."

"You make it sound like there's hundreds of aliens here."

"There are."

He leaned over her and opened the glove compartment. Pulling out a bag of butterscotch he unwrapped one slowly, as though giving himself time to think.

"Most are harmless," Martha reassured him. "Just here to learn about our culture, or meet someone famous, or just wandering."

"Right. And the rest?"

"Out to kill us, or eat us, or, worst case scenario, end the world. But there are other aliens watching over us too. And the world hasn't ended so far."

Carlisle offered her the bag of butterscotch. Martha took it and unwrapped one herself.

"And how exactly does a young doctor get mixed up in all of this?"

"OK, Cliff Notes version. The Jadoon transported my hospital to the moon in order to hunt a plasmavore hiding out there and the Doctor, he's another alien, a time lord, he saved us and then just kind of… picked me up and I travelled with him for a while. That's how I met Captain Jack, my boss. He's the head of Torchwood, he's from the future, and he's immortal."

She looked at him and laughed.

"I'm sorry I'm not laughing at you. Your expression just reminds me how mad all this sounds."

Carlisle sucked on his sweet. "I need a drink."

"Let's go back to my hotel, I can show you what we're dealing with there."

"You wouldn't be propositioning an officer of the law, would you?"

Martha inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, glad they were back on friendly terms.

"Me?" she looked shocked. "I'm offended you could even think such a thing."

"In that case I apologise. I wouldn't want to cause offence."

III

The mini bar yielded only a diet coke in the end as Carlisle was on duty. As he drank, Martha showed him the results of her DNA scan.

"How the hell do we kill something like this?" he asked.

"We aren't going to kill it."

"What do you suggest we do with a," he looked down at the sheet she'd given him. "'Strong biped, over 7 feet tall,'" he quoted, "who's already killed two people and maimed another?"

Martha pulled something from her pocket and handed it to him. It looked like a solid chrome test tube.

"Give him a chemistry set?"

"Very funny. It's a synaptic inhibitor. One blast from that and the synapses of the motor neurones freeze up. Gives us about two minutes to put these on him." She pulled a pair of black handcuffs out of another pocket. "Nothing can break out of these."

"Then what?"

"We take him back to headquarters. If his home planet will try him for his crimes, we extradite him. If they won't, he'll stay locked up with us."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

III

Martha hung up the phone. "We're in," she told him, opening up her laptop.

"In what?"

She began typing. "GCP024, Americas biggest and best spy satellite. Call the search party, see if you can get an update on where it's heading."

The screen changed to a satellite image. "Is that the farm from this morning?" he asked, pointing at the corner of the screen.

"Yep." She typed again and the image changed to an infrared picture. "There." She pointed to a cluster of red blobs among the trees. "That's your men searching."

Carlisle opened his phone and called the search coordinator. When he hung up he told her they were following a trail and gave her the coordinates. "Looks like it's heading towards the road."

Martha typed and the image zoomed out, covering a bigger area. Carlisle leaned over the back of her chair to look and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"How do you get access to this sort of thing?"

"We hack in. As far as the Americans are aware there's a glitch in the satellites data receiving system. When we're done, it comes back online, the Americans none the wiser."

He grinned. "You are something else, Doctor Jones."

Martha suppressed a shiver and swallowed. She could smell the butterscotch on his breath and wonderedif he'd taste of it if she kissed him.

"There!" he pointed at the screen.

Martha mentally kicked herself and began to zero in on the region.

"Is it?" he asked.

Martha called up the data readings which appeared over the image. "Biomass is consistent. I think it's him."

She grabbed the laptop and shoved it at Carlisle. "Come on!" and before he realised what had happened, she was out of the door and he was running after her.

She unlocked her jeep and jumped in, starting the engine before she'd even closed the door. Carlisle jumped in beside her and as soon as his door closed, she reversed out, spraying gravel at the other cars.

"Keep your eye on it!" she said, pointing at the laptop.

Shocked out of his reverie, he opened the laptop and looked for the alien. "Damn it! Lost him!"

"Then find him!" she said, through gritted teeth.

Carlisle panned the image north east and spotted the blob they were assuming was their alien. "Got 'im! Take the second right. He's heading towards that road."

"How far away are we?"

"Maybe, eight miles."

Martha yelled in frustration and accelerated.

Carlisle admired her driving skills, she was obviously trained. He kept one eye on the laptop, adjusting the view to keep the alien in sight.

She turned where he'd directed her to and sped around the other cars on the road as though they weren't there.

"Once we've got it, don't call off the search team. Let the trail go cold, I'll take him back to headquarters."

Carlisle considered arguing, but any other course of action threw up too many difficult questions. "About four miles." He updated her.

Martha didn't answer; she was chewing her lip in concentration.

"Two miles… Slow down… Stop around here."

Martha pulled off the road, behind some trees, glanced at the screen and got out of the car. "Come on! And bring that!" she called, and once again he found himself not only obeying her but trailing after her.

She ran for the cover of some bushes and got behind them. Carlisle joined her. She took the laptop and overlaid the image with a grid.

"Where did you learn to drive like that?" Carlisle asked.

She didn't look up. "On the run from Harold Saxon, day after he was elected."

Like most of the world, he was never sure what had happened to Saxon. The story of his death seemed just as contrived as, it turned out, Saxon's life had been. He was willing to bet Martha knew the truth, but now wasn't the time to ask questions.

"It's about 50 meters in, over the other side."

Carlisle looked at the screen. If it kept to its current course, it was heading right for them.

He saw Martha get the silver tube thingy out and she handed him the cuffs. "We'll need to be quick. You ready?"

"Yeah."

She nodded, her gaze switching between the laptop and the trees over the road.

"10 meters," she whispered as she raised the synaptic inhibitor and pointed it as where she assumed the alien would emerge.

Carlisle saw movement over the road. It seemed to have slowed down now its cover was coming to an end.

Martha watched, waiting for a clean shot.

It seemed to take an eternity but eventually the alien, who now looked completely human, stepped out from behind a tree and walked casually towards the road.

Martha waited a moment while she judged his speed and then she fired.

A silver pellet seemed to shoot from the device she held and sped towards the alien, hitting it square in the chest.

It shook slightly then fell to the ground. He and Martha sped across the road, it was still twitching as Carlisle rolled it over and snapped the handcuffs on.

And suddenly it was over. They looked at each other over the fallen body, panting and grinning and before Martha knew what was happening, she was being pulled into a bear hug and spun around. Someone was whooping with delight.

And then he was kissing her, fervently, and she was responding.

It was better than she had imagined, fierce and passionate. It briefly occurred to her than there were officers searching these woods who might find them, but that thought was fleeting and soon the only things that existed in Martha Jones' world were her and Peter Carlisle.

His hands ran up and down the length of her back, pulling her to him so forcefully, she doubted she could have escaped. Not that she wanted to. Her hands were in his hair, grabbing handfuls as she explored his mouth with her own. He did taste of butterscotch. He tasted wonderful. Suddenly things had gone one step further and she was pulling at his shirt, desperate to touch his flesh. They were both clawing and ripping at the barriers between them until someone swore.

Reality crashed back in on them both as the alien began to protest the situation it now found itself in.

Martha was breathing heavily as she looked into his eyes, searching for some inkling of how he felt. But he was giving nothing away.

"Shut up!" she shouted at the alien who, shocked, stopped cursing.

Martha pulled a syringe from her pocket and viciously stabbed it into the aliens leg.

"That'll knock him out for 12 hours."

Carlisle was staring at the body. "He looks so human."

Martha touched the buckle of the aliens belt and his appearance flickered, then reformed into the ape like creature Jenny Banks had described earlier. Carlisle grimaced.

"We'd better get him out of here." Carlisle suggested and between then they hauled it back to her Jeep. The boot, Martha explained, was reinforced to act as a cell. There was no way the alien was breaking out, even if it did wake up.

She collected the laptop from their hiding place and got back in the drivers seat. She was avoiding eye contact with him and hardly spoke to him on the return journey.

She pulled back into the hotel car park and parked next to his vehicle. "Do you want to come up for a drink?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, why not. You sure it's safe in there?" he pointed towards the boot.

"I'm sure."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Ready for the real stuff?" Martha asked as she went into her hotel room and opened the mini bar.

"I think so. Any Jack Daniels in there?"

"Coming up." She poured one of the mini bottles into a glass and discretely added the amnesia solution. As she opened a small bottle of wine for herself as she phoned Tosh.

"Mission accomplished, you can give the satellite back." She told her. "Not tonight. It's been a long few days, I'll head back first thing in the morning." She handed Carlisle his glass then poured her wine. "Sure, and thanks, Tosh."

"You okay?" Carlisle asked. "You don't seem very happy."

"I'm fine. Like I said, this has been going on a while and I'm just tired." She was also upset that tomorrow Carlisle would remember nothing of today. She felt bereft and wished she didn't have to do it. But the rules were in place for a reason.

"I need to make a phone call, can I use the bedroom?"

Distracted, it took her a moment to register what he'd said. "What? Oh, uh. I need a shower anyway, you stay here."

Carlisle didn't need to make a phone call but he had spotted her putting something in his drink. He waited until he heard the shower turn on and tipped the contents of his glass into a potted plant.

He knew he should probably go. This woman was almost certainly bad news. In fact, since she'd tried to drug him, he could be positive she was bad news, even if she wasn't a bad person. But he felt drawn to her. He'd never met anyone like her before.

She was beautiful, intelligent, commanding and could handle herself in a crisis. He poured himself a fresh drink and sat down to wait for her.

III

As the water washed over her, Martha felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away. She hadn't let anyone affect her this deeply for years, and now she had to leave him, before anything had even had a chance to begin.

She wiped her eyes and tried not to think about it. She wasn't a child. She didn't fall to pieces at the slightest provocation, she carried on. Come hell or high water, she carried on.

And so they might only have one night together. A night he'd never remember. She'd make the most of that night, and treasure the memories enough for both of them.

Always assuming he was still out there when she was finished, of course.

III

He was standing by the window when she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a large white dressing gown with a matching towelling turban.

He turned and smiled at her, desire burning in his eyes.

"Come here," he told her and before she knew it they were in each others arms again. There was less urgency this time, but no less passion.

They didn't speak again, they didn't need to.

Her dressing gown fell to the floor, shortly followed by the towel and his clothes. Crumpling to the floor, they never made as far as the bedroom and he took her with an urgency and fervour matched only by her own.

III

As the sun dipped lower over the horizon, the room grew darker, yet neither made any move to turn on a light. Martha almost felt she could stay where she was forever, if given half a chance.

Carlisle was trailing his hand lazily over Martha's back as she lay on his chest.

"You know," he said, "I think this qualifies the weirdest day ever."

Martha smiled. "Just another day at the office for me."

"Really! I hope you don't sleep with every partner you have." He teased.

"Only the cute ones."

"Oh, you think I'm cute?"

"Well," she smiled, "in your case I made an exception."

"So I'm a charity case?" he asked indignantly.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." He kissed her forehead. "So, what happens now you've caught your bad guy?"

"Take him back to headquarters then start chasing the next one."

"How do you know where the next one is?"

"We monitor police reports for unusual activity, satellite readings for possible landings, UFO sightings, that sort of thing."

"And how did you end up doing… this? You didn't give me a proper answer before."

"Like I said, I ran into an alien, he saved my life, we went travelling in time and space for a while." She spoke unreservedly, knowing he would remember nothing in the morning. It was wonderful to speak freely about her life to someone new.

"Oh, time _and_ space?"

"Well, he was a Time Lord."

"What does that make you, a Time Lady?"

She laughed. "Hardly." Her tone became serious. "No, he just needed someone with him. He was the last of his kind, and he was lonely."

"And you loved him."

"You don't miss a trick. Yeah, I loved him. For all the good it did me." She added softly.

"Aah, love is over rated, anyway."

"You don't mean that."

He sighed. "No, I guess I don't."

"What's it like?" she asked. "Finding The One and being loved back."

He didn't even question that she knew about his past, he expected nothing else. "It's like you're a child again, on Christmas eve, and you're so excited you can't sleep, because you know, you just know the next day is going to be wonderful."

"You're lucky to have had that."

"'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all?'" he asked.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's worse if you know what you're missing." She hesitated before asking her next question, afraid of hurting him. But they were being so open and honest, she hoped he wouldn't mind. "So, if I could change it, if I had the Doctor and his time machine here right now, and I could go back and make sure you never met her, would you want me to?"

"Doesn't changing history implode the universe or something?" he asked.

"Only a third of it,

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, well that's all right then."

"That's beside the point. You're avoiding the question."

"I know."

"I'm sorry," she looked contrite. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's okay. I'm just stalling for time."

She rested her head on his chest while he thought about his answer.

"No, I don't think so. Sometimes those memories have been all that's kept me going."

They lay in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. The room was nearly pitch dark and Martha gave a small shiver.

"Cold?" he asked.

"A bit."

"Then how about we order some room service and adjourn to the bedroom?"

III

When Martha awoke the next morning she saw the bed beside her was empty.

She supposed he'd awoken to find himself in a strange bed with a strange woman and no memory of how he'd got there, and decided to leave before Martha could awake and ask any awkward questions.

She sighed and pulled on her dressing gown.

"Good, you're up." he came in smiling, bearing two cups of coffee.

Martha's mouth opened and closed, but no sound issued. She sat down on the bed.

Carlisle handed her a cup and seemed top be enjoying her discomfort.

"So, what was supposed to happen?" he asked, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Wot?"

"That stuff you put in my drink last night, what was it supposed to do to me?"

"Make you forget." She mumbled. Her sleep addled brain was having trouble keeping up with the conversation. He knew, he'd seen her drug his drink, he hadn't drunk it, but even worse, he could remember everything she'd said last night!

She blushed and swallowed. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

"I'm sorry, this must be very awkward for you." He said sympathetically.

"I had to." She told him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "I wasn't allowed to tell you anything."

"Oh, its okay, I understand. Company policy, I'm sure."

She nodded dumbly.

"Well, why don't you go and take a shower, and then we can figure out what to do next."

Right now the only 'next' for her was getting him to take the drug. But she needed time to think, so she headed off to the shower as he suggested.

"Oh, and Martha?"

She turned back.

"You're never going to find The One if you're afraid to take a few risks."

Martha closed the bathroom door. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

III

When Martha emerged from the bedroom, showered and changed, she found Carlisle sitting at the table, buttering a slice of toast.

"I took the liberty of ordering breakfast, hope you don't mind. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

Martha didn't answer but sat opposite him and began helping herself.

"Tell me, what do you think is happening here?" she asked.

"I've got no idea, but I'm enjoying the journey."

"And how do you see this ending?"

Carlisle shrugged. "Don't know."

"You think it's easy? Or exciting, maybe?"

"No."

"Do you have any idea what it's like? How dangerous it is? What it's like to have to lie and hide so much of what you do?"

"No," he answered easily, as though she'd just asked if he wanted another cup of coffee. He leaned across the table and kissed her softly. "I just want to help, that's all. Let me take him back with you. Let me help you. I am a detective, you know, I have experience of catching bad guys."

"What about your job?"

"Called in sick."

"And they won't mind?"

"I haven't taken a day off sick in well over a year, I don't think they'll question it."

Martha shook her head. "I must be out of my mind." She told him. "Not to mention, Jack'll kill us both."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I guess it is."

"Such enthusiasm." He raised his eyebrows sardonically. "Good job I don't have low self esteem."

Martha couldn't help but smile.

III

Carlisle offered to take the first shift driving. He adjusted the seat while Martha loaded her cases in the back seat and injected the alien with the sedative again before getting in beside him.

He drove out of the car park and asked. "I'll bet this thing comes with a wicked sound system, no?"

"Don't you want to know where we're going?"

"Cardiff?"

"How do you-"

He smiled. "I told you, I'm a detective. You aren't the only one who can do a background check." He told her pointedly.

"Fair enough." She was impressed. Torchwood had pretty much erased her past. "So what sort of music do you want?"

"Got any soul music?"

Martha accessed the onboard computer. "Should have something."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Carlisle ended up driving all the way and Martha directed him to the underground vehicle entrance. They heaved the alien out of the jeep together and onto a waiting gurney.

Martha walked up beside a pair of large steel doors and put her finger on the scanner, then she typed in an eight digit code, then she spoke a six word code.

An automated female voice spoke. "Identity confirmed. Welcome back, Doctor Jones."

"Hi Hal. I've got one category four prisoner."

"Detention cell 405 is prepared."

The doors opened and they each grabbed one end of the gurney.

"Hal?" Carlisle asked.

"Our security system. It's got a basic artificial intelligence. She chose the name, it's her idea of a joke."

He frowned, but accepted what she'd said at face value.

They stored the prisoner in the designated cell and headed for Torchwoods control centre.

"It's quite some set up you have here."

"Thanks, but I can't take credit for any of it."

"Martha," Tosh greeted her with a hug. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Peter Carlisle, he's been helping me. Peter, this is Tosh Sato."

He shook hands with Tosh. "Pleased to meet you."

"Jack won't be thrilled."

"I can deal with Jack." Martha got them all coffee's and they sat around the coffee table. "So, what's our status?" Martha asked.

Tosh eyed Carlisle for a moment before beginning.

"Total thought to be looking here in Britain is fifty seven. Dangerous and still uncaught, nineteen. But there are more arriving every day." She pulled out a slim manila folder. "Your next target is in London. Three police reports of antiques and second hand shops being burglarised."

"So it hasn't hurt anyone yet?" Carlisle asked.

"It hospitalised two policemen at the second robbery and killed a shop assistant at the last one."

Martha put her head in her hands. "This can't go on, we need help."

"We're doing everything we can. Even UNIT and the armed forces are getting involved."

"But people are still dying." Martha pulled her phone out. "I think it's time to call for backup."

Tosh didn't question the decision. Although it wasn't official, Martha had become Jacks second in command. She'd seen so much more than the others, knew so much more, that it was only natural her status was viewed as higher than theirs and that they looked to her for advice. Even Jack asked her opinion on many things.

Carlisle didn't know what was going on so kept out of it and observed. You often learnt a lot more by watching than jumping into the fray.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor was shouting so loudly they could all hear his reply.

"Kind of busy right now, Martha. Nasty Berat demon wants me dead. Can it wait?"

"Kick it five inches above its navel."

"Wha- Oh, that was close. What for?"

"I encountered one last year, it's got a nerve cluster there."

"You- oops- sure?"

"YES! Just do it!"

There was a thump, then a roar of pain and finally a crash.

"Well well, thanks for that. What can I do for you?"

"We need your help. Come to Torchwood Headquarters, May fifth 2010."

"I'm on my way."

Martha closed her phone, terminating the call.

"What will he do?" Tosh asked. Everyone in Torchwood had heard of the Doctor, but none of the others had met him before.

"I dunno. But he'll think of something."

The odd whirring noise was the first sign of his arrival, just moments after Martha had ended the call, and before their eyes, a blue box appeared.

A siren sounded and the female voice that had greeted Martha when she arrived spoke. "Security breech detected."

Martha said, "Override protocol, access code Jones oh one seven beta nine."

The siren ceased just as a door on the box opened.

"I do like to make an entrance." The man standing there said.

Martha jumped up and ran to him. The Doctor swept her into a hug and lifted her off the ground. He set her back down and looked at her. "Hello Martha Jones. Long time no see."

Carlisle could see the resemblance Martha had spoken about, but he hoped that such an inane grin had never marred his own features.

Martha grinned. "You're looking good."

"You too."

An arm around his back, Martha guided the Doctor over to where the others were sitting. Carlisle took an instant dislike to him.

"Doctor, I'd like you to meet Toshiko Sato."

They shook hands. "Nice to meet you," the Doctor told her.

"And this is Peter Carlisle."

Carlisle shook the Doctors hand and nodded a greeting. They eyed each other warily and Carlisle had a feeling the Doctor knew what had happened between Martha and him.

"Right then," the Doctor looked around. "No marauding aliens, no imminent invasions, even the rift is quiet. So," He looked directly at Martha. "What's the problem?" he asked seriously.

"Toag's lost masterpiece. The rumour is it's hidden here on earth and aliens are pouting in, and not all of them are friendly."

"I see."

"Do you know what it is?" Tosh asked him.

"Me? Not a clue. Doubt it even exists, personally." He sat on one of the sofa's. "Any chance of a cup of tea?" he asked Carlisle.

"I'll do it." Said Martha quickly. She handed the Doctor the mug of tea and sat next to Carlisle. "Doctor, there have been twelve deaths in Britain alone. We need to stop this and chasing down one alien at a time is too slow."

Carlisle took hold of Martha's hand possessively and spoke up. "Can you go back in time and plant a false trail, lead them somewhere else?"

The Doctor shook his head and ran a hand through is hair. "Sorry, I'm part of events now, and crossing into established events is very bad news."

"So you can't help?" he asked. Martha thought she heard a note of glee, though Carlisle was careful to keep his expression sombre.

"Now, I didn't say that." He put down his mug and stood up. He headed for the police box and opened the door. "I'll be back in a tick," he winked at Martha. "Unless you wanted to come along, for old times sake?"

"Stay." Carlisle's grip on her hand tighten, and that decided it for her.

"Sure," she let go of his hand and jogged over to the TARDIS. "See you in a minute," she told them.

The Doctor watched with curiosity as she entered, then with a final glance at Carlisle, silently followed her in and closed the door.

"Sure you want to do this?" he asked as he began setting the controls on the console.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Your friend doesn't look too happy about it."

"I don't like being told what to do."

"I remember." The central column whirred into life.

"Where are we going, anyway?"

"Back to the beginning, where it all started. Who is he?"

"No one."

"A no one you were holding hands with."

"I held your hand, it doesn't mean anything."

"Martha, you are a woman of many talents, lots of them unique, but not one of them includes the ability to lie convincingly."

"I only met him two days ago!"

"Wow, you work fast."

"I do not! We haven't-""

"You're a bad liar, remember?"

"Okay, once."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows disbelievingly.

"OK, one night. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." He scratched the back of his neck. "Still, it isn't like you."

"Maybe I was lonely, maybe he was just the first man to come along in a while who I liked."

"Maybe?"

"Okay, so he wasn't supposed to remember anything." Martha sighed and sat down on the Doctors chair.

"So, you used him."

"You're one to talk."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, you need someone with you so you offer this fantastic trip of a lifetime and lure people away from their lives."

"If I recall, you were the one who wanted to travel full time."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"You must know what it's like, hiding so much, keeping secrets. When someone breaks through those barriers it's like…"

"Yeah." He said softly.

"Shouldn't we be there by now?"

"We're drifting in space."

"So you can interrogate me?"

"Martha, I'm not judging you."

"Too right! Who are you to judge me!"

"Your friend. I care about you."

Martha softened. "I like him, is that okay?"

"That depends. Is he a good man?"

"I don't know yet. Probably."

"Is he good for you?"

"I have no idea. It's been so long I don't really know what I'm doing."

"I know that feeling."

"What's with this big brother speech anyway? I have Leo for that, not to mention Mum."

"Aah yes, has he met your mother yet?"

"No."

"Can I be there when he does?" he grinned.

"No," she laughed. "Just stop it, we've go a job to do, remember."

"Brain like mine, course I remember."

III

"I'm sure they won't be long," Tosh assured Carlisle.

"How can you be so sure?"

"It's a time machine. Even if they were gone years, they could land back here five minutes later."

Carlisle frowned. "That isn't helping."

III

"Where are we?"

"Toag's studio, about two weeks before he died."

They climbed up the stairs in front of them which opened out into a large open plan room. The other side of the room a humanoid creature stood by the window.

"How did you get in?" he asked them, in a monotone. He didn't turn to face them. "Everything's dead locked."

"Long story. I'm the Doctor and this is Martha."

Finally the alien sighed and turned face them. At first glance he looked human, it was only on closer inspection Martha noticed slight differences. His fingers were longer, his eyes rounder and his colouring had a bluish tinge to it.

"What do you want?"

"To ask about your masterpiece, actually."

The alien gave a loud, bark like laugh.

"Is something wrong?" Martha asked.

"Wrong? No, nothing. Nothing at all. Unless you count the fact that I'm dying. But that's hardly worth mentioning since the disease has robbed me of the one thing that made life bearable."

"I'm sorry?"

"My work. I can focus for long enough, my coordination has gone. It's over."

"So you never completed your masterpiece?" the Doctor asked.

"Certainly I have. I've had three attempts so far."

"What's the problem then?" Martha asked.

Toag walked over to the work bench and pulled the sheet covering it off. Three statues stood there, all about three feet high.

"Rubbish." He told them.

He was right, the sculptures were odd. Everything was slightly out of proportion to everything else. Two of them had a rough gouge marks in them, as though Toag had taken a hammer and chisel to them in a rage.

"I thought I'd have one last try, see if something remained, if I cold pull a rabbit out of the hat at the fifteenth hour."

"I'm sorry," the doctor told him.

"It's not your fault, it's this damn disease. I would rather it had taken my mind than my talent. At least then I wouldn't care."

"What will you do with these?" the doctor asked.

"Destroy them. My family can never know I failed."

"Would you mind if I took one?"

"Whatever for?"

"Oh, you know, posterity."

"I suppose not, they're worthless. One less for me to smash. I'm not as strong as I once was."

The doctor picked the undamaged statue.

"Right then, well, nice meeting you."

"Yes," Toag sounded bored.

"Bye," Martha called over her shoulder but the alien didn't reply. She opened the TARDIS doors so the Doctor could carry it in.

"Now what?" she asked.

"You'll see. Actually, before we go, just check if he's signed it, will you?"

Martha tilted the statue and looked at the base. "He's carved something here, must be a signature of sorts."

"Lovely!"

III

"The work is unusual, but the markings, the technique, yes it's defiantly a Toag."

"Good," the Doctor rubbed his hands together. "We'll just take a certificate of authenticity and be off then."

"The museum might be in the market to buy it from you, if you were interested."

"Thanks, but no. I have my own plans for this beauty."

"A pity. This could have made our fortune."

"Yeah, well money isn't everything."

"True." The printer beeped and the curator handed the certificate to the Doctor. "But when you run a museum, it helps."

III

Carlisle was pacing when he heard the same whirring sound that indicated the arrival of the Doctors blue box. He sat down.

Martha came out first, the Doctor right behind her carrying a small statue.

"Right then!" he began. "We are holding an auction in two days time fort this thing. We need space. Martha, anything local we can use, must be able to hold a few hundred people."

"There's a disused theatre not far from here." She smiled. Her favourite part of travelling with the doctor had been putting the plan together.

"Perfect! Right, I want everyone on the internet. I want adverts on every auction site, in every classified column, every advertising website, everywhere! Spread the word people, we have Toag's lost masterpiece and it's in Cardiff, available to the highest bidder in two days. Allons-y!"

Even more than when he learned about extraterrestrial life and secret organisations, Carlisle felt wrong footed. The Doctor and Martha were like a well oiled machine and he was the outsider.

III

"Told you it wasn't glamorous," Martha teased after seven hours on the internet.

"Good thing I took you at our word then."

Martha stretched. "You want a coffee?"

"Sure." Carlisle watched her from the corner of his eye. She head to the coffee machine only to find it was empty and all the coffee had been used.

"Be right back." She told them, heading off to the store room for more.

Carlisle slipped from his seat and followed her out of the room, waiting outside the store room for her.

"Hey, you," he smiled warmly, backing her up against the wall.

Martha looked uncomfortable and held the bag of coffee in front of her, like a shield.

"Come on, they can wait five minutes."

Martha glanced down the corridor but Carlisle cupped her cheek, gently turning her face back. He kissed her gently, his thumb stroking her cheek but Martha's response was half hearted. He pulled away and looked at her, searching her face for the answers he needed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I should get back," she told him, pushing past.

Carlisle watched her retreating back for a moment, thinking maybe it would be better if he just left. But he wasn't a quitter. He'd offered his help and he wasn't going to back out now. Besides, if he really cared for Martha, he wouldn't give up at the first sign of trouble.

As he came back he saw the Doctor glance from Martha to him. Their disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed.

III

"Look who's back," Tosh announced as she entered the control room, followed by Jack.

"Jack!" Martha ran over and hugged him.

"I see you've been busy in my absence." He told her, noticing the Doctor and over her shoulder.

Carlisle noticed the hug. For a secret organisation, they were awfully friendly around here.

Martha broke off and the Doctor and Jack shook hands.

"Long time no see." Jack said.

"Nice operation you've got here." The Doctor told him, looking around the control centre.

"And this," Martha dragged Carlisle forward. He was please to have been remembered, but not too happy with being an afterthought. "Is a friend of mine. Peter Carlisle, this is Captain Jack."

"Captain Jack Harkness," he shook Carlisle's hand. "Very pleased to meet you."

"Stop it!" said the Doctor and with a brief look and nod of his head he managed to imply that Carlisle was Martha's.

"What? How was I supposed to know?"

"Oh, never mind that now, I'll tell you later," Martha promised. "We've got to go and prepare the auction site."

"We can mange that," the Doctor told her. "You bring Jack up to date on recent events."

Martha looked to Carlisle. "Stay, we'll be fine." He assured her.

And so it was settled, the Doctor, Carlisle and Tosh headed for the exit and Martha followed Jack to his office.

III

The theatre Martha had chosen as the venue for the auction hadn't been used in years. Its wiring system was shot and the Doctor and Carlisle were eyeing each other discretely as they repaired it.

Carlisle wasn't pleased to notice that, thanks to a tubular device the Doctor was using, he was making much faster progress.

"Go on then," the Doctor broke the uneasy silence.

"What?"

"Ask me. I can tell you're dying to."

Carlisle considered playing dumb but that wasn't his style. "Okay, what's your relationship with Martha?"

"Nothing. I haven't seen her in a year or more."

"What about in the past?"

"We're good friends, that's all."

"But you weren't always just good friends, were you?"

"Martha is a very special woman, and I care a great deal about her, but we've never been romantically involved."

Carlisle believed him. "She loved you."

"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "And I'm not proud of it, not that I lied to her, or led her on, mind you, but… well-"

"You didn't treat her very well."

"I suppose you could put it that way."

"And she and Jack?"

"No, never."

"She not his type?"

"No, no, they get on well, but there's never been anything else. Far as I know. I think everyone's Jack's type actually. He's bisexual, well, omnisexual, really, long as it's got a pulse. Although i do wonder sometimes…"

Carlisle shook his head. "You should make this into a soap opera."

The Doctor smiled. "Really? You think people would watch?"

"Better than Coronation Street."

"Well… I have a bit of a soft spot for that one, I'm ashamed to admit."

Carlisle laughed. This was just too weird.

The Doctor grinned.

III

Jack's expression was stony as he faced Martha across his desk. "And what exactly are we supposed to do with him now?"

"Can't we use him?"

"Martha, this isn't a social club! You can't just waltz in here with your new boyfriends and expect we'll be okay with it. This is your job, not your sex life. What sort of example do you think this sets?"

"I know," she said quietly.

"You don't see me or Tosh or Gwen bringing civilians in, do you?"

"Jack, I tried to give him the drug."

"Did you? Did you really? Or were you hoping he'd find a way around it?"

"Of course not!"

"Well it doesn't look like you were trying very hard from where I'm standing."

"If that's what you really believe, fine," Martha yelled. "We can still give him the drug, problem solved."

Jack softened. "That's still an option." He walked around his desk and put his arm on her shoulder. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"I have a high strength dose that will wipe out five days of memories. That gives you two days to decide."

"This is my decision?" she looked up, perplexed.

"You brought him in, you deal with him."

"And if I want him to stay?"

"We'll make it work." He took a deep breath. "What you did was amateurish, unprofessional and dangerous and I don't want anyone, including you, thinking its okay. But I know how hard things have been for you and I know you've got good instincts. I'll stand by whatever decision you make."

A part of Martha had been hoping Jack would make Carlisle drink the solution, there by absolving her of any guilt. But Jack was too smart for that.

And now Martha had a decision to make.

Jack pulled his coat on. "Let's get to the theatre, I want to see what's going on."

"Sure," she said half-heartedly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Everyone was busy working when they arrived at the theatre. Carlisle was up a ladder replacing broken light bulbs, the Doctor was at the lighting board, testing each one as they were replaced and Tosh was dragging a table, a podium and a chair onto the stage from the props cupboard.

"The cavalry's here! What can we do?" Jack called from the back of the auditorium.

"You can take over from us," the Doctor called. "Oh, and I need to borrow your vortex manipulator."

Jack took the manipulator off his wrist and handed it over. "Any reason?"

"You'll see."

Carlisle climbed down the ladder to exchange jobs with Martha.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look it." Martha didn't answer. "I'm sorry if I got you in trouble."

"It's fine."

"Come on!" the Doctor called to Peter from the back of the auditorium. "We've got work to do."

"You're getting on okay then?"

"Yeah, he's not a bad guy."

Martha smiled and climbed up the ladder as Carlisle turned to join the Doctor.

III

The rest of the Torchwood team arrived back in Cardiff and joined in, helping prepare things.

No one was quite sure what the Doctor and Peter were doing, running around the theatre with a lot of wires, but no one had time to ask.

The broken lights were replaced, the isles cleaned of debris, the broken chairs mended, refreshments set up and the certificate of authenticity placed in the lobby under unbreakable glass.

"We're all done, Doctor," Jack called up into the stalls.

The Doctors head appeared over one of the stalls. "Good man. Now go back to base and start letting people know where this thing is. We're nearly done here, we'll join you soon."

III

By five that evening everything was ready and the aliens had arrived and were milling around, There was an air of anticipation in the air and a few fights had been broken up. The statur stood on the stage, covered in a sheet and guarded by Ianto and Gwen, both holding nasty looking guns.

Jack took to the stage and asked for quiet, immediately the theatre quietened and everyone listened intently.

"Good evening, Ladies, Gentlemen, Unisex, Multisex and Variforms. I'd like to welcome you to Cardiff and our little auction. You've had time to study the certificate of authenticity by now, I trust you're happy that what we have is genuine."

In the wings Martha, Peter and the Doctor were waiting just inside the TARDIS doors. Owen and Tosh were just outside, watching Jack.

"Ready?" the Doctor asked. Martha grimaced but nodded, Peter nodded.

The Doctor took Jacks Vortex Manipulator, which now had a variety if wirers connecting it to the TARDIS, the Extrapolator and the theatre itself.

"Here we go!" Carlise saw a blinding flash of light, then felt his head being pulled with such force he thought it might be ripped from his shoulders. But the force descended to grip his shoulders as another force grabbed his legs. He literally felt like he was being pulled apart.

And then he fell, landing hard on the floor of the TARDIS.

"Everyone okay?" the Doctor asked.

Carlisle did a quick check, he seemed to be in one piece. He saw Martha getting to her feet and rushed to help her.

They looked outside the TARDIS and saw the area full of the theatres occupants, only now they were in the desert, looking confused and disorientated.

"If I could have your attention!" Jack shouted. "Thank you. You've all been coming here, running around, treating this planet and its people like your own personal playthings. That stops now! For those of you who are more peacefully inclined, there's a town about a days walk that way," he pointed. "Those of you who are more interested in the statue, it's all yours."

Jack and the rest of the Torchwood team ran into the TARDIS, where the Doctor was frantically disconnecting wires from Jack's vortex manipulator. Once finished, he closed the doors and headed around the console to watch the screen.

Most of the aliens were walking away, in the direction Jack had pointed, but about a quarter of them were fighting over the statue, clawing, punching, shooting and stabbing to get closer to it.

"Live by the sword," Jack said.

"Exactly," the Doctor agreed. "Time we were going, I think." He set the controls and the central column flared into life. They landed with a bump. Only Martha Jack and the Doctor managed to stay upright.

"Right," said Jack, rubbing his hands together. "The drinks are on me! Doctor, will you join us?"

"Well, I suppose one drink can't hurt." "Right then, off we go," Jack herded his team out, none of whom had said a word since entering the TARDIS.

Carlisle held Martha back as the others headed across the Roald Dahl Plass.

"Can we take a walk?" he asked.

"Sure."

They headed around the square, towards the shops.

"Martha, I've never met anyone like you before. The moment I saw you, I thought you were special. Moment I met you, I knew you were." He took her hand but she was stiff and uncomfortable. "I'd resigned myself to a lifetime of being alone. I was happy on my own. Then you charged into my life and… I can't stop thinking about you. When I'm not with you, I can't wait for the moment when I see you again. It's like you've stolen a piece of me, and I'm not whole unless you're around. I don't want to be on my own anymore."

"It's not as easy as that."

"Look," he grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. "I'm not your first choice, I get that. And that's OK. If things had been different we'd both be happy living with other people. And I know it's frightening. I've been married twice, Martha, and I've had my heart broken twice. But maybe that's a good thing.

"Because we won't ever take each other for granted, we won't ever wonder if there's anything better out there, because we already know. You can spend your life looking back, wondering what might have been, or you can look forward, make what we have extraordinary.

"We're the luckiest people alive. We've been given a second chance. I'm not going to blow that, and I wont let you blow it either."

"I just need time to think." She told him.

"Don't think, feel."

"I don't work like that. Please, just give me some time."

"Fine. I'm going to book in at the hotel round the corner, you can find me there when you've made a decision. But I don't think you're a coward, Martha. I'm begging you, don't run away from this."

III

As Martha headed back to the Torchwood base, she noticed the TARDIS still sanding outside the Millennium Centre.

"I'm surprised you're still here." Martha said, letting herself in.

"Thought I'd recharge the TARDIS from while I was here but the rift hasn't been active for a while, takes a bit longer.

Martha sat on his chair, looking miserable.

The Doctor watched her covertly, but didn't say anything.

Finally she spoke up. "Doctor, how do you know when you've found the right person?"

He didn't need to ask what she meant. "You don't."

She looked crestfallen.

"Love isn't that easy, life isn't that easy. But that's what's so wonderful, Martha. Taking a chance, that leap of faith into the unknown, uncharted territory. It's as terrifying as it is brilliant."

"What if I can't?"

"No such thing. You only get one lifetime, Martha. Do you really want to spend your later years wondering 'what if', just because you were too scared to take a chance?"

III

Peter was getting out of the showering when there was a knock on his door. He called out that he was coming and pulled some clothes on as fast as he could. Opening the door he saw a man standing there.

"Delivery for you, sir. It was left at reception and marked urgent, I thought I'd better bring it up."

Peter rummaged for a tip and thanked the man, taking the parcel from him. It was a small white box, like a broach might come in, and bound with green ribbon. Opening it, he found a card resting on tissue paper. He took it out for a closer look and saw a note below.

'Go to the tourist information centre on the bay'

Carlisle looked at the card. It had his photo and a Torchwood logo. But what the hell did that have to do with a tourist office?

III

Carlisle entered the tourist office and saw one of the Torchwood Team behind the counter. Carlisle tried to remember, it had been a strange name. Ianto?

Ianto smiled and pointed at the credit card machine on the desk. Carlisle took the ID card he'd been sent and inserted it in the slot. A light blinked and he heard the door lock behind him. Then a book case behind the information desk swung forward.

Ianto gestured for him to pass through. He then found himself I a stone corridor and headed towards what looked like a lift at the end. As soon as he entered, the doors closed and the lift began to decent, without him pressing anything.

When they opened, she was there, casually leaning against the wall of the hub, smiling. He smiled too and before either could say anything they were kissing.

"Hey!"

Carlisle stopped reluctantly.

"Do that on your own time!" Martha turned to Jack. Despite his stern words Jack expression was more exasperated than upset.

"Aren't I owed some holiday time?" she asked.

"And I still work for the police, right?"

"Wrong. But there's not much happening here. Take the rest of the week off, we'll page you if we need you."

They didn't need telling twice. Martha and Carlisle turned to the lift.

"Oh, and Carlisle!"

He turned back to Jack.

"Welcome to Torchwood."


End file.
